


Burdened

by mag_lex



Series: Series 12 fix-it fics [3]
Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: F/F, Smut, Top!Yaz, ascension of the cybermen mild spoilers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-26
Updated: 2020-02-26
Packaged: 2021-02-28 05:40:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,091
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22908697
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mag_lex/pseuds/mag_lex
Summary: Yaz helps the Doctor share the burden, in more ways than one.
Relationships: Thirteenth Doctor/Yasmin Khan
Series: Series 12 fix-it fics [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1653895
Comments: 33
Kudos: 139





	Burdened

**Author's Note:**

> So as you probably all know by now, I am very much of the top!13 school of thought (and although the fandom is split, my recent twitter poll backs this - 53% think the same). However, when I saw what Yaz was up to in Ascension of the Cybermen, a little top!Yaz shone through and I just had to roll with it.

The Doctor had been busy tinkering. From down the hallway, Yaz could hear her thinking aloud, brief monologues punctuated by the odd clang and muffled exclamation as she no doubt injured herself. But the room she’d barricaded herself in was off-limits; something about adapting a particle projector and limiting contamination, according to Graham, who had been making himself a cup of tea when the Doctor had marched past him on a mission, welding helmet firmly in place. 

That had been several hours ago and although Yaz knew it wasn’t very long in the grand scheme of things, she wanted more than anything to see the Doctor. She’d woken up out of sorts, entirely alone, grasping for a body that was no longer there. It wasn’t unusual, particularly in recent weeks, for the Doctor to slip out of bed and leave Yaz sleeping, but she’d normally returned by the time Yaz had woken fully. Even if the Doctor wasn’t quite herself - she’d been preoccupied, borderline stressed - she still tried to be there when Yaz woke up at the very least. It had been something of an unpleasant surprise for Yaz to wake up the way she had, the sheets cold next to her. 

When she’d first knocked on the door, a slightly frazzled-looking Doctor had emerged just long enough to kiss Yaz on the nose and apologise profusely for her preoccupation, but explaining that a particle projector was going to be key in their fight against the Cybermen and could Yaz come back in half an hour? 

Yaz had to take the Doctor's word for it, but, battling as she was with apprehension about their upcoming challenges, she longed for some simple comfort that only the Doctor could provide. Half an hour felt like 29 minutes too long so Yaz opted to wash her hair, then plait it in a way she’d only once attempted before. It proved tricky enough that it passed the time easily, although now that she’d perfected it, Yaz was suddenly struck by the thought that the Doctor might not like it. She loved to run her hands through Yaz’s hair. So, when Yaz knocked again, she found herself anxious to see the Doctor’s reaction.

“Come in!” the Doctor’s voice called out, and Yaz eased open the door, uncertain what to expect. The first thing she saw was the Doctor, her back to the door - coat shed and nowhere to be seen - surrounded by chaos. She was hunched over a table covered in equipment Yaz had never seen before, but the intensity of the Doctor’s focus was apparent because it was only once Yaz cleared her throat that she finally turned to greet her. 

The moment she did, she dropped her sonic.

“New...hair?” the Doctor gaped. Yaz, who felt slightly self-conscious about the new style, absorbed the implied compliment and let it abate her nerves. The braids had taken a long time to perfect but it had been time very well spent, judging by the Doctor’s goldfish expression.

“Thought it would be a bit more practical,” she replied simply, and the Doctor licked her lips before bending over to pick up her sonic. Her outfit had been deliberately ‘practical’, too, although Yaz knew the leather jacket she'd chosen to wear was one of the Doctor’s favourites. 

“Very practical,” the Doctor nodded gravely, fiddling with the screwdriver in her hands as she scrambled for a more appropriate response. Yaz tried not to stare at the way her fingers moved. Her hands were filthy, streaked with oil.

“Do you like it?” 

“I- yeah, of course I do,” the Doctor breathed. “Just took me by surprise, is all.”

“In a good way?” Yaz persisted, wanting to hear the Doctor’s honest opinion. Teasing the words out of her could take effort, sometimes, especially when her mind was elsewhere.

“In a very good way, Yaz.”

The Doctor’s eyes darkened, eyes raking over Yaz’s whole body as if by finally saying the words aloud, she had permission to look. She stepped closer, clearly torn between her priorities. The particle projector might well have been important, but Yaz had managed to interrupt her concentration just long enough to make an impact. 

Recently, Yaz had been surprised to see lapses in the Doctor's self-control. It had happened occasionally - a snarky comment every now and again, or a face that she thought she hid - but her patience was apparently wearing thinner than it ever had. When they’d visited Lord Byron, for instance, the Doctor had been pushed to breaking point and made clear just how impossible the choices she had to make were. She'd been frazzled to start with, sniping and defensive, but Yaz chalked it up to the insane amounts of stress they were all under. The Doctor, in particular. 

And the Doctor had been venting this stress by ambushing Yaz at every moment they were alone, grounding them both in raw, slightly frantic sex. Not that Yaz minded that - the opposite, in fact - but the Doctor had been so focused on Yaz’s pleasure that it had felt imbalanced. Every day that passed seemed to carry them further into danger and the Doctor had been upfront about that, bluntly telling Yaz her concerns about her safety; but rather than scare Yaz, her honesty had served to intensify their intimate moments together, searing them into her memory. 

Yaz ran a hand up her forearm, remembering vividly the way the Doctor had pinned it against the wall and shoved a leg between her thighs just the night before. Yaz longed to reciprocate. 

“Need a hand with anything?” she asked, deliberately ignoring the non-verbal cues the Doctor was sending her to look past her shoulder instead. The projector lay on the table and it was far larger than Yaz was expecting, exposed wires everywhere. “Is it finished?” she frowned. 

The Doctor nodded, eyes still fixed on her. 

“Yeah. All done. Just need to move it and tidy up, won’t take long.”

Yaz leapt at the opportunity to speed things up.

“Oh! I can help.”

“I wouldn’t, Yaz, the projector is really, really-”

Yaz brushed past her and picked up the projector easily. 

“...heavy.”

The Doctor’s eyes widened comically as Yaz hefted the equipment onto her shoulder in one smooth move, stabilising the weight. It really was quite heavy, but she wasn’t going to let on. 

“Where would you like it?”

“Just...there,” the Doctor gestured, pointing to the far side of the room. She watched without a word as Yaz crossed the distance.

"You were gone when I woke up," Yaz commented, muting a groan that threatened to escape as her fingers slipped slightly. She couldn't let on how heavy the damn thing was, not when the Doctor was looking at her like that. 

"Sorry, Yaz. Had a brainwave," the Doctor offered. She genuinely sounded sorry, too, but Yaz decided to have a little fun. 

"You missed out on the way I chose to start the day."

"Oh?"

Projector safely moved to the floor, Yaz caught the Doctor blatantly staring at her as she straightened up. The intensity of her gaze made Yaz very aware of the molten heat between her thighs. She tensed them subtly and the Doctor instantly clocked the movement.

"I'll let you use your imagination."

Yaz had done nothing of the sort but watching the Doctor read between the lines and imagining Yaz touching herself was far too entertaining an opportunity to pass up. 

"You…"

"Your hands were busy elsewhere."

The Doctor automatically held her hands up and her face fell when she saw how dirty they were. 

"Just give me five minutes to clean up and I'll make it up to you, Yaz. I promise."

"Nah. That's alright, Doctor. Like you say, you've been busy. But now I think you deserve a little break, don't you?"

Yaz watched the movement of the Doctor's neck as she swallowed. She could see the thin sheen of sweat there, which was probably why the Doctor's coat was nowhere to be seen; although the TARDIS was always cool, the Doctor had clearly been exerting herself that morning.

The removal of a layer certainly made Yaz's life easier and she cast an appreciative eye over the Doctor's arms. She was a huge fan of the white shirt she were underneath, particularly when the Doctor rolled the sleeves up like she had done.

"I s'pose I could take a breather."

The Doctor inhaled sharply as Yaz drew near, hands clenched at her sides as she tried to avoid getting grease all over Yaz's clothes.

"A breather wasn't quite what I had in mind."

Yaz slid her jacket off and folded it carefully, telegraphing exactly what she was thinking, and the Doctor took a step closer, drawn like she was magnetised.

"Nuh uh," Yaz tutted, depositing the jacket on a nearby chair. "You have to keep your hands to yourself."

The Doctor sighed dramatically, and Yaz could practically feel the frustration rolling off her. 

"But-"

"No buts. No touching or you'll ruin this shirt."

Yaz reached for said shirt, unbuttoning the top few buttons to show just a hint of cleavage. As predicted, the Doctor's eyes were instantly drawn to the gap in the material and Yaz used the distraction to her advantage, walking the Doctor backwards towards the table, placing her hands on the Doctor’s narrow hips to guide her. 

"That is a nice shirt," the Doctor murmured. 

"I know. And I'll be keeping it on."

They'd reached the table and Yaz scanned the surface, eager to put the next step of her impromptu plan into action. 

"What about all that?" Yaz gestured at the clutter on the table behind the Doctor and bit back a grin when the Doctor barely cast a glance at it. 

"Cast-offs," she murmured, apparently completely side-tracked by Yaz's demeanour. 

"Would you mind moving them out of the way? I want to keep my hands clean, y’see."

The Doctor hesitated only briefly, then turned to clear some space on the table. She clearly wanted to ask Yaz what she was thinking but something stopped her. Yaz took it as a sign that the Doctor might finally be willing to follow her lead, for the first time in too long.

While she was occupied Yaz finally closed the gap between them, pressing herself fully up against the Doctor’s back and delighting in the feel of her sharp inhale against her own chest. 

“Yaz…”

“Yes?”

Yaz brushed some of the Doctor’s hair away from her neck, placing a single kiss under her ear.

The Doctor sighed and tilted her head to one side, exposing more skin for Yaz to explore with her mouth. 

“Hold onto the table, will you?” Yaz suggested, waiting for the Doctor to do as she’d asked before renewing her attack on the sensitive skin with vigour. 

She could feel the Doctor pushing back against her, using the table for leverage, but Yaz pinned her in place, placing her hands outside the Doctor’s own and bracing herself against the table. The Doctor was surprisingly strong but Yaz knew she could hold her own. A spike of adrenaline and the rush of blood to her muscles from carrying the equipment certainly didn’t hurt.

“What are you doing?” the Doctor asked, and Yaz could practically feel the words against her lips. 

“I think you can guess.”

The Doctor pushed back a little but Yaz pushed back harder, letting her teeth graze the skin underneath her mouth. 

“You’re under a lot of strain, Doctor.”

“No kidding,” the Doctor panted, and Yaz could see that her eyes were firmly closed, mouth hanging open. Apparently she wasn’t going to put up much more of a fight and Yaz risked removing one of her hands, keeping the other in place so that the Doctor couldn’t turn around. 

“I’d like to help get rid of it.”

“I’m sure you would.”

Yaz didn’t dither; she cupped the Doctor’s breast through her shirt, squeezing a little more roughly than usual. The noise the Doctor made in response wasn’t particularly dignified but it did things to Yaz, things that made her keen to continue. She could feel the nipple hardening underneath her palm and tweaked it through the material with her fingertips, then again when the Doctor moaned loudly. She was never normally this turned on from a simple touch and Yaz was thrilled. 

“You like that?”

The Doctor nodded, head dipping as her knuckles turned white. 

“Stay put.”

Yaz tentatively removed her other hand, relieved when the Doctor stood still. She felt like she was walking on a tightrope; they were entering unknown territory, and she had no idea how the Doctor would respond to being deprived of control. But so far, so good. One thing was for sure: the urgency that had tinged their more recent contact was apparently welcome, and Yaz took a leaf out of the Doctor’s book.

“I was thinking about last night,” Yaz continued, keeping one hand moving on the Doctor’s chest while the other rapidly made its way south, skimming her stomach just briefly.

“Oh?” 

At least, that’s what it sounded like. It could have been a guttural moan for all Yaz knew, but the effect was the same. She could feel herself throbbing with arousal caused by the noises the Doctor was making.

“Yeah. How you took what you wanted.”

Yaz boldly moved her hand between the Doctor’s legs, pressing firmly against the crotch of her trousers and smirking against the Doctor’s shoulder when she felt her response. 

“Yaz-”

“Now I’m getting what  _ I _ want.”

Yaz could feel the heat against her hand and tugged at the Doctor’s suspenders to let the tension slacken. She brusquely unzipped the Doctor’s trousers and the noise of the zipper was the only sound in the room apart from their breathing. Yaz could hear the Doctor’s breaths speed up in anticipation as her hand moved to the open fly of her trousers. 

“You think you can handle that?”

The Doctor nodded again but the moment Yaz slid her hand inside, her knees buckled. 

“Whoah,” she moaned weakly, both of them surprised by her reaction.

“Steady, Doctor,” Yaz soothed. “We’re only just getting started.”

She felt the Doctor lean back into her as her fingers teased her through the material of her underwear. Having the Doctor in her arms like this was addictive and gave Yaz the confidence to continue, passing more firmly over her clit as she made a tent in her trousers with her knuckles.

“I...Yaz, this isn’t fair,” the Doctor muttered, hips jerking as Yaz continued her movements.

“Are you really complaining?” Yaz smirked, feeling the material under her fingertips become even more damp. 

“Not...complaining,” the Doctor hissed, and Yaz could see her arms start to tremble with the tension. Yaz circled her clit briefly, listening out for further protests. 

Instead, the Doctor crumpled, strength apparently departing her. It took Yaz by complete surprise and she whipped her hand out, catching her fully. 

“Change of plan,” Yaz huffed, easing the Doctor back onto her feet and helping her turn. She didn’t miss the dark shadows under the Doctor’s eyes, despite the flush to her cheeks. She was clearly exhausted and ceding control to Yaz had somehow deprived her of her characteristic inner strength. Yaz would just need to be strong enough for both of them.

“Don’t stop, Yaz,” the Doctor pleaded, fingers clenching uselessly at her sides. 

“I’m never going to stop,” Yaz confirmed, sliding her hands up the back of the Doctor’s thighs. “Wrap your arms around my neck.”

The Doctor did so and Yaz bodily lifted her onto the table, leaving her legs to dangle over the edge. 

“Now, where were we?”

The Doctor toed off her boots by way of response, reaching for her trousers, but Yaz moved her arms away. 

“No, let me. You’re still all oily.”

The Doctor watched through hooded eyes as Yaz carefully tugged her trousers off. 

“Budge up a sec.”

A momentary shift and said trousers were laid under the Doctor’s thighs. 

“Don’t want to make a mess.”

“Pretty sure I’ll need a shower anyway, Yaz,” the Doctor said wryly. 

“I meant the table.”

Yaz bit back a grin at the shock that painted the Doctor’s face.

“Yaz! When did you get so filthy?”

“Says you,” Yaz replied, looking pointedly at the Doctor’s hands. 

“You know I didn’t mean that.”

“What can I say? You’re a bad influence, Doctor,” Yaz murmured, running her fingertip under the elastic of the Doctor’s underwear. “All those times you’ve ambushed me and had your way have only made me even more determined to even the score.”

“You’ve been- keeping count?” The Doctor braced herself on her hands as Yaz tugged her underwear down her legs and threw the material behind her. 

“In a manner of speaking,” Yaz murmured, entranced by the sight that was revealed to her. She’d missed this. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d had the Doctor bare before her.

“I need to see you fall apart,” she continued, trailing her fingertips up the inside of the Doctor’s thigh. 

“I want to hear you say my name like it’s the only word you know.”

She finally let her fingers glide into wet heat.

“I have to feel you come around my fingers.”

The Doctor positively groaned as Yaz slipped inside, thumb instantly coming to rest on her clit. Yaz could feel her struggle to stay upright. 

“Link your arms around my neck again,” she suggested. “Just don’t touch my hair, it took me ages.”

The Doctor huffed out a laugh but did as Yaz recommended, and Yaz could feel their centre of gravity stabilise. She brought her other arm behind the Doctor’s back, holding her securely.

“Better?” she asked, moving her fingers slowly. 

“Kind of,” the Doctor sighed, holding on tight. “If you could just-”

“I’m not open to direction, Doctor. I thought that much would be obvious.”

Yaz stopped moving, her eyebrow raised in challenge. It was too late to let things slip; she needed the Doctor to do as she was told, for once.

The Doctor bit her lip and Yaz leaned in to kiss the trapped skin the moment it was released. The kiss grew rapidly heated as the Doctor tried to move things along, legs twitching either side of Yaz’s hand. But Yaz wasn’t to be rushed; she knew what the Doctor was after but she wanted to prolong the power trip for as long as she could. 

“I saw the way you looked at me just now,” she said, pulling away for air and letting her fingers start to move again. Her thumb pressed down lightly and the Doctor squirmed, hips shifting as she chased the pressure. But Yaz pulled back, depriving her of it. She wanted to make this moment last; she wasn’t sure when it might happen again.

“How’s that?” the Doctor moaned. 

“Surprised. You didn’t think I could lift that, did you?”

The Doctor paused, then shook her head. 

“That’s because you never let me use my strength,” Yaz continued, dipping her head to suck the pulse she could see thumping along the Doctor’s throat. 

“But I can be strong. In more ways than one.”

Yaz was starting to sweat, feeling the pressure of the Doctor’s arms and legs trying to trap her, to move things along. She was bearing more of the Doctor’s weight than she’d expected, but she had to prove her point. She could do more heavy lifting than the Doctor realised. 

“You can,” the Doctor agreed, sighing as Yaz carefully curled her fingers inside. “You really can. And you’ve proved your point.”

“Have I?” Yaz asked, withdrawing her fingers and adding another, feeling the Doctor stretch around her as she welcomed her inside with a low moan.

“Unghhh,” the Doctor sighed, shuddering as she accommodated the intrusion wonderfully, and that was all the confirmation Yaz needed. She could feel arousal coating her palm.

“Good.”

The room started to get even warmer as Yaz moved, watching the Doctor’s face closely. She was always so expressive but a lot of the time her face was hidden between Yaz’s legs or vice versa, and Yaz made the most of the opportunity to watch it up close. 

She could feel the muscles of her arms and shoulders starting to burn slightly with the strain but there was no way she could stop fucking her now, not when the Doctor was clearly coming undone.

“Yaz, please,” she moaned, dropping her head onto Yaz’s clavicle. 

“Please what?”

“Just...please.”

Yaz was glad she’d tied her hair so tightly because it would have been an absolute nightmare to keep it out of the way. There was barely any space between them, and the air felt like it had been deprived of oxygen. Yaz felt like she was barely breathing, and she could feel her chest heaving with the effort of fucking the Doctor like this.

“Faster? Harder?”

The Doctor shook her head.

“Just don’t- ahh,” the Doctor whined, arms tightening as Yaz angled to reach a spot that made her clench tight around her fingers. 

“Don’t what?” Yaz breathed in relief, feeling sweat cool her brow. 

“Stop. Don’t ever stop.”

“I never plan on it,” Yaz affirmed, rewarding the Doctor for her patience by increasing the pace, finally.

“Oh Yaz, Yaz, Yaz.” The Doctor chanted her name like a prayer, her exhalations briefly stirring the open lapel of Yaz’s shirt and tickling the skin just enough to make Yaz shiver. She was beyond turned on but there was no way she was going to be derailed. 

“Doctor,” Yaz replied, trying to convey her emotions in just one word. How much she cared for her, and how good she wanted her to feel. The Doctor seemed to pick up on it because she drew her head back, fixing her eyes on Yaz’s face. They were as dark as night and Yaz found herself lost in them, almost losing her rhythm as they stared at one another without barriers. 

“I-”

“Don’t talk,” Yaz said, not wanting to hear what the Doctor was about to say. They didn’t need words. 

“Just come.”

The Doctor cried out as Yaz pressed down, finally adding much needed pressure as she circled her clit with her thumb. The angle was awkward but the Doctor was so close that Yaz ignored the discomfort, wanting nothing more than for the Doctor to fall apart in her arms. 

She did, suddenly, tensing so rapidly that it took Yaz by surprise, and then she shuddered so hard that Yaz almost lost her grip. But she kept her hand moving just enough to draw out as much of it as she could, her other hand resolutely keeping hold of the Doctor’s back as she drew gasping breaths. 

“Shhh,” she murmured, finally letting her hand fall away and bringing it around to join the other on the Doctor’s back. She could feel the solid warmth of her body through the thin material of her t-shirt, the movement of her ribs as she breathed. The Doctor was quiet for a long moment as she recovered. Then, she straightened and sat upright, bearing more of her own weight. Yaz missed it instantly. 

“Where did that come from?” the Doctor asked, genuinely bemused. Her cheeks were still pink, her breathing rapid, and Yaz finally snapped out of it when she realised she had made her look like that.

“I have...no idea,” she admitted. “I think I’ve been wanting to do that for a while. You know, take care of you, for once.”

“Yasmin Khan, you never fail to do that,” the Doctor replied, gingerly getting to her feet and brushing her lips against Yaz’s. Her hands stayed obediently by her sides, Yaz noted. 

“Really?”

The Doctor nodded. “Really. Whatever happens, Yaz-”

Yaz raised a finger to her lips, cutting her off. 

“I don’t want to think about that. Not now.”

She removed her finger when the Doctor nodded her assent. 

“Let me just get changed and we can continue this elsewhere,” the Doctor said. Then she frowned as she scanned the room for her pants. 

“Commando it is. Just ‘til I can hop in the shower,” she amended, when she saw the look of horror cross Yaz’s face.

“Fancy some company?” Yaz asked, knowing for a fact that she wouldn’t be able to function otherwise. 

The Doctor smiled broadly. The sight of her looking so genuinely happy made Yaz’s heart soar.

“Like I’d ever say no to you.”

**Author's Note:**

> As always, you can find me on Twitter @_mag_lex.
> 
> My fics are now on WordPress at maglexfic.wordpress.com. You should be able to subscribe there to all my new ones, since I won't be posting any new fics to Ao3 for the foreseeable future :)


End file.
